The Lily of the Valley | Page 5

During a recess, which
preceded the hour when the man-of-all-work took us to the
Charlemagne Lyceum, the well-to-do pupils used to breakfast with the
porter, named Doisy. Monsieur Lepitre was either ignorant of the fact
or he connived at this arrangement with Doisy, a regular smuggler
whom it was the pupils' interest to protect,--he being the secret
guardian of their pranks, the safe confidant of their late returns and
their intermediary for obtaining forbidden books. Breakfast on a cup of
"cafe-au-lait" is an aristocratic habit, explained by the high prices to
which colonial products rose under Napoleon. If the use of sugar and
coffee was a luxury to our parents, with us it was the sign of
self-conscious superiority. Doisy gave credit, for he reckoned on the
sisters and aunts of the pupils, who made it a point of honor to pay their
debts. I resisted the blandishments of his place for a long time. If my
judges knew the strength of its seduction, the heroic efforts I made after
stoicism, the repressed desires of my long resistance, they would
pardon my final overthrow. But, child as I was, could I have the
grandeur of soul that scorns the scorn of others? Moreover, I may have

felt the promptings of several social vices whose power was increased
by my longings.
About the end of the second year my father and mother came to Paris.
My brother had written me the day of their arrival. He lived in Paris,
but had never been to see me. My sisters, he said, were of the party; we
were all to see Paris together. The first day we were to dine in the
Palais-Royal, so as to be near the Theatre-Francais. In spite of the
intoxication such a programme of unhoped-for delights excited, my joy
was dampened by the wind of a coming storm, which those who are
used to unhappiness apprehend instinctively. I was forced to own a debt
of a hundred francs to the Sieur Doisy, who threatened to ask my
parents himself for the money. I bethought me of making my brother
the emissary of Doisy, the mouth-piece of my repentance and the
mediator of pardon. My father inclined to forgiveness, but my mother
was pitiless; her dark blue eye froze me; she fulminated cruel
prophecies: "What should I be later if at seventeen years of age I
committed such follies? Was I really a son of hers? Did I mean to ruin
my family? Did I think myself the only child of the house? My brother
Charles's career, already begun, required large outlay, amply deserved
by his conduct which did honor to the family, while mine would always
disgrace it. Did I know nothing of the value of money, and what I cost
them? Of what use were coffee and sugar to my education? Such
conduct was the first step into all the vices."
After enduring the shock of this torrent which rasped my soul, I was
sent back to school in charge of my brother. I lost the dinner at the
Freres Provencaux, and was deprived of seeing Talma in Britannicus.
Such was my first interview with my mother after a separation of
twelve years.
When I had finished school my father left me under the guardianship of
Monsieur Lepitre. I was to study the higher mathematics, follow a
course of law for one year, and begin philosophy. Allowed to study in
my own room and released from the classes, I expected a truce with
trouble. But, in spite of my nineteen years, perhaps because of them,
my father persisted in the system which had sent me to school without

food, to an academy without pocket-money, and had driven me into
debt to Doisy. Very little money was allowed to me, and what can you
do in Paris without money? Moreover, my freedom was carefully
chained up. Monsieur Lepitre sent me to the law school accompanied
by a man-of-all-work who handed me over to the professor and fetched
me home again. A young girl would have been treated with less
precaution than my mother's fears insisted on for me. Paris alarmed my
parents, and justly. Students are secretly engaged in the same
occupation which fills the minds of young ladies in their
boarding-schools. Do what you will, nothing can prevent the latter from
talking of lovers, or the former of women. But in Paris, and especially
at this particular time, such talk among young lads was influenced by
the oriental and sultanic atmosphere and customs of the Palais-Royal.
The Palais-Royal was an Eldorado of love where the ingots melted
away in coin; there virgin doubts were over; there curiosity was
appeased. The Palais-Royal and I were two asymptotes bearing one
towards the other, yet unable to meet. Fate miscarried all my